“That’s your business,” Commander Roark said shortly. “I only need your commitment to exclusivity for a single solar year. By that time my prototype should be ready to mass produce and distribute to females who wish to be impregnated with Kindred fetuses.”
“I’d like to ask ‘what prototype,’ but I’m sensing you won’t be willing to talk about your work until I sign the contract,” Sammi said dryly.
“You’re correct about that. And, Ms. Grey—it’s going to be our work.” He gave her that intense look again—the one that made her stomach feel fluttery, though she tried to ignore it—and stood to offer his hand.
Sammi stood as well and held out her own hand. Normally she would have said something along the lines of how she couldn’t wait to start working for him or how she was sure they were going to get along great, but she wasn’t sure of either of those things. So she simply said,
“Thank you, Commander Roark. I, uh, I’m sure we’ll have an excellent working relationship.”
“As long as you live up to your end of the contract, we certainly will,” he said gravely. “And I think we should dispense with formalities, as we’re going to be working so closely together. You may call me simply, Roark. May I call you Samantha?” he asked as he clasped her hand in his much larger one.
“I…uh…” Suddenly all Sammi’s poise left her. The reason for that was the strange feeling that came over her the moment he touched her.
A wave of tingling warmth swept up her arm and then covered her whole body. She felt for a moment as though she’d been standing on the beach and a huge, warm wave had drenched her.
“I…I…that will be fine,” she managed at last, trying to regain her composure.
“Very good.” He released her hand. “I’ll have the contracts drawn up and you can sign them tomorrow before we begin work.”
“Oh, will…I mean, you want me to start tomorrow?” Sammi stammered. She wanted to ask Roark if he’d felt the same strange sensation when they had touched, but it was clear from his composure that he hadn’t.
The strange warmth had faded from most of her body when he let her hand go, but it remained as an uncomfortable hot tingling sensation in her breasts and between her thighs. What in the world was going on—had she imagined it?
Roark raised an eyebrow at her.
“Do you have other plans?”
“No, no!” Sammi assured him quickly. “I was just…surprised, that’s all. The hiring process tends to take a bit longer down on Earth.”
“Well, you’re not on Earth now, Samantha,” he said firmly. “And we need to get to work immediately—we have a lot to get done if we’re going to be finished in a year, so you can immediately begin procreating.”
“Immediately begin—oh.” Sammi understood that he was referring to her remark that she wanted a big family. “Of course.” She nodded. “I’m sure we can manage.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Roark was already turning back to his desktop monitor, clearly absorbed in his research. “Seven sharp. Don’t be late.”
“No, I…I won’t be.” Sammi still felt rattled by the strange feelings that lingered after their handshake. “Goodbye…Roark,” she said, feeling odd about calling her new boss by his name with no titles in front of it.
“Goodbye.” He wasn’t even looking at her anymore—his eyes were focused on the monitor in front of him. “You can show yourself out.”
“Okay—thank you.” Sammi nodded and left his office, still feeling rather dazed. It was undoubtedly the strangest interview she’d ever had.
She had no idea the job she’d just taken would be even stranger.
Two
Roark focused fiercely on his monitor, though he saw nothing on it. He was fighting to hold on to his composure—fighting not to come around the desk and take his new assistant by the shoulders and…
And what? Drag her in for a kiss? Embrace her? Hold her full, curvy body to his and crush her against him so he could breathe in her sweet, hypnotically feminine fragrance?
He’d felt the Strike when he first touched her—the tingling warmth that engulfed his whole body when their skin made contact. It was a sign, some would say. A sign they ought to be together. And he’d been able to tell by her reaction—her wide eyes and quickened pulse—that she had felt it too.
What’s wrong with you? Get hold of yourself! he commanded himself sternly. Forget about the Strike—you must have imagined it. And even if you didn’t, it doesn’t matter.
At last Samantha Grey left, taking her sweet scent with her and he was able to breathe a sigh of relief.
Why in the Seven Hells had he hired her?
Roark got up and began to pace. She was going to be a complete distraction—he just knew it. He should have cut the interview short the moment he saw her luscious, full curves and long, reddish-gold hair…her pale, creamy skin with the Goddess kisses—what humans called freckles—sprinkled across her nose and cheeks…her big, green eyes that held so much intelligence and curiosity and fire…